Belated Birthdays Are The Best Kind
by HeartsandEyesDelight
Summary: Greg gets Sara an interesting birthday present, which Grissom learns to appreciate. Hehe. SMUT.


Disclaimer: I don't own them.

A/N: So, I admit it, I blatantly stole this idea. Ever since I watched 'The Ugly Truth' over Christmas, I've been thinking about this scene in a Sara-Grissom world... :)

So, for your reading pleasure... a ridiculous daily dose of smut! (One smut a day keeps the doctor away?)

Oh, also, I'm not really a slash-writer, but I've been liking the idea of Nick and Greg together laterly. Sooo, it's alluded to, but not played out. ...Because I write GSR.

Let me know what you think!

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Belated Birthdays are the Best Kind

"Greg!"

He laughed heartily, clutching his stomach. "What?" His attempt at innocence failed miserably, and then he was bent over, laughing again.

Sara rolled her eyes, trying to stay mad, but eventually gave it up as futile. "You are just disgusting…"

At this, he was indignant. "What?! Why? …Just because I'd noticed you were a little _tense_ lately and wanted to help you out on your birthday?"

"Vibrating Panties!" She shrieked in disbelief. "If I'm tense, you get me a voucher for a massage, not a… a…"

He rolled his eyes. "Right. Because you are just _so_ innocent when it comes to vibrations, right?"

Sara stopped, turning to look at him. Because she was pretty sure she hadn't made any drunk confessions, so how did he… "You went through my drawers!" she accused wildly, which sent her spikey-haired friend into fits of laughter again.

"Every time we go out, you're not ready to go. You think that while you finish showering, shaving your legs, drying and styling your hair, dressing, and putting make-up on that I'm just gonna sit around and watch TV? You should have expected as much! And, I think you should be thanking me, because you haven't gotten a new one in quite some time an—"

A couch cushion hit him squarely in the face. "Jerk Face."

He grinned. "So are you gonna go try them on?"

Her eyes were wide with alarm. "No!"

He rolled his eyes again—what _was_ it with women? Any man in the world would openly admit to masturbating with no embarrassment, but a adult, mature, educated, free-thinking, open-minded woman like Sara acted like a pre-teen talking about S-E-X. "Please. We both know you're going to use it, even if you never admit to it… and it's not returnable. So let me know if they fit, because it they don't, I'll go buy you another pair that do."

"I am not trying it on, Greg."

"Fine. Go try it on, or I'll tell Nick and Warrick about your buzzzy little friends in there." He said, adding a little extra emphasis to his z's. She watched him silently for a moment, and then ripped the panties from the box and slammed it back on the coffee table in aggravation.

"I hate you."

He grinned, waiting until she closed the door and then digging the remote control from the box and slipping it in to his pocket—he might not do anything… but then again, he might do a lot. He moved over to the bathroom door, "No you don't. We both know you aren't getting any because you're pining away after a man who wants you and don't know that he wants you… and believe me, I know how horny that can make a person."

"So go sleep with some other guy and leave me and my vibrators alone!"

He chuckled at her voice coming muffled through the door. "Do they fit?"

"…I think so."

"Let me see."

"I'm not letting you see!!"

He rolled his eyes yet again. "Obviously I meant with your pants over them. I just want to make sure you actually put them on and that you aren't just lying to me… because Nick and Warrick would find your collection far funnier than I did. …I totally get the _desperate_ thing."

The door opened abruptly and Greg smiled into Sara's fire-filled eyes. "Here. I'm wearing them." She lifted the waist band free from her pants to show him, and then glared. "For a gay man, you're awfully interested in what's going on in my pants, Greg." She turned to head back into the bathroom when her phone rang from the coffee table. She glanced between it and Greg, and then, sighing, hurried over to it and flipped it open impatiently. "Sidle."

She let out a sigh. "Yeah, he's here. What's up?"

"Oh, nice. Yeah, we'll grab our kits and meet you at the… Oh. You... You're here now?" There was a knock on the door. Sara's eyes were wide as she frantically grabbed the packaging for the underwear and stuffed it into the gift bag and hurled it through the open door into her bedroom, while Greg calmly walked over to the door and opened it.

Grissom stepped in, and they both hung up their phones. "Ready to go?"

Greg raised an eyebrow, "We going out on a case? …Yeah, my kit's in my car downstairs… Sara, you ready?" He grinned knowingly at her while she glanced at the bathroom and then back to the men in front of her.

"I just have to go to the bathroom quick."

Greg grinned. "You just went. Can't you wait 'til we get there?"

She narrowed her eyes angrily. "You aren't supposed to use the facilities at a crime scene, _remember_ Greg?"

He chuckled. "Wow, moody… peeing constantly. Are you pregnant, Sara?"

She colored bright red under Grissom's raised eyebrow and snatched her sweatshirt from the couch. "No. I'm fine. I can hold it."

"Great! Let's go!"

Sara sighed heavily and snatched her keys, leading the two men out of the apartment. Sure, she'd have to put up with Greg's taunting, but at the very least she knew she'd left the remote control locked in her apartment. So it should be just fine…

Greg contemplated using his new-found power in the drive to the scene, and even at the scene… but he thought he'd rather use his power for good. Which meant that it needed to occur around Grissom, but… not with him in the back seat. No, they would need to be alone for this. He grinned. She might never forgive him, but it was the opportunity of a lifetime.

The scene didn't need three people, but it was a high-profile case and Grissom had preferred to be safe. Within the hour they'd released it and headed back to the lab to begin processing, and it wasn't long before Grissom got irritated by Greg's antics and told him to go wait for their DNA results to come back in… it would most likely be a half hour or more for that to happen. So Greg made himself comfortable in the empty layout room across from theirs and settled in to watch the fireworks.

"So he was found on the Sheriff's brother's land?" Sara questioned, trying not to lean too far forward in her chair beside the table, because the little vibrating nub stuck out from the underwear, parting her and pressing insistently against her clitoris. Even turned off, leaning forward caused a noticeable reaction in her body, and she didn't have any spare, dry underwear in her locker.

Grissom nodded. "Yeah… doesn't look good right now, although it was close to the highway, so it's still possible it was a body dump."

"What's your first blush?"

She tilted her head thoughtfully from side to side. "…Somebody that close to anyone in power knows better than to let a body be found on their property… maybe it was a set-u-uhhh." She closed her eyes and gripped the layout table in front of her. Oh god. It had turned on!

"Sara?" Grissom sounded concerned, setting down his picture and moving to her side. "Sara, are you okay?"

It turned off. Her cheeks were flushed and she was breathless. She drew in a deep breath. "I… yeah, Griss, I'm fine."

It started again, and this time she was able to remain silent—simply gripping the table and closing her eyes. Oh God, but it was good… and horrible. The very worst possible moment for such a thing to happen. Grissom laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Are you sure you're okay, Sara?"

She shook her head slowly. "I… need to go to the bathroom."

The vibrator turned off. Grissom looked upset. "Oh… so you… you are."

"I am… I am what?"

"Pregnant."

I let out a sigh. "No, I'm not pregnant, and I don't have morning sickness. I just need to sit down for a minute…"

"Well let's go to my office—close the blinds, turn off the lights, you'll feel better in no time. It always helps with my migraines…"

She stood up and it turned on again. Her knees quivered and he wrapped an arm around her in concern—she couldn't even stand up straight—leading her to his office, ignoring her protests. She clearly needed to lie down for a moment.

Gritting her teeth against the sensations, Sara trembled. "I… I'm fine. …Really. I'm gonna—"

It turned up to high, and Sara collapsed onto the couch with a surprised—"Oh!"

Grissom raised an eyebrow—Sara was acting very strangely—and inhaled deeply, trying to think what to do. This inhale, however, offered him a clue… but… that didn't make any sense.

"Are you…" No. No, that was crazy and… well, none of his business, frankly. It didn't matter if she smelled strongly like she was aroused, because it… it was nothing. Not anything. …Well not really.

Her eyes snapped to him. "What?"

"…Nothing. …What's wrong, honey?" She simply shook her head, looking unable to speak, though it was unclear exactly why, so he moved to turn the lights off and close the blinds. He didn't notice the dark shape blocking the light under his door, listening. "There… does that help?"

She nodded, and shook her head, and fluttered her eyelids, and finally Grissom lost his patience. "Sara! Tell me what's wrong!"

"…G… Gre…Greg. Oh shit. …Greg."

The entomologist looked perplexed, and turned back to the door to see someone scrambling to their feet. He swung it open and there was the man of the hour—he tried to pull him inside, but Greg was too fast, laughing lightly and slipping the small remote control into Grissom's outstretched palm. "Here. You're the one she wants using this anyway…" He winked, and took off down the hall.

Grissom did not understand, but he turned around and closed the door, squinting down at the small device and finally pushing stop. Sara released a huge sigh of relief and her whole body slumped into the couch… and Grissom simply listened, picking up on her increased heart rate. What on earth could be going on that would cause her to…

He turned it on low. Sara, for her part, had believed her torture to be over and was not prepared for the sudden stimulation again… without thinking, she arched her hips up as soon as they buzzed to life, and then Grissom understood.

But he was not entirely sure he wanted to understand. With a morbid kind of curiosity, he turned it off and asked the question anyway. "…Why… on earth… would Greg have the remote for something like that?"

She blushed, turning away from Grissom—they'd been a lot closer ever since she'd opened up about her past and her parents, but she wasn't ready to have this kind of conversation with Grissom. …At least not face-to-face. Instead, she mumbled into the couch cushions.

"It was a birthday present."

"…Your birthday is in September. …It's April."

"I know. He… he told me it was because he hadn't gotten me one for my birthday, and then saw the perfect present. He… well… blackmailed me, more or less, into trying them on to make sure they'd fit, and then… you were there, and I wanted to change but… I had no idea he had the remote!" She was fire-engine red and so near tears that it was only sheer force of will that was keeping her sobs at bay.

She heard Grissom move, and the lock on his door slowly turn, and then suddenly she was buzzing again, arched against the underwear, turning startled eyes on her beloved entomologist. "…Greg said I was the one you wanted using this… is that true?"

She blushed, and attempted to recover from this impossibly horrible situation—she was going to _kill_ Greg—"I… Grissom, it's—"

The vibrator turned up to high, and she gasped out loud, her eyes snapped closed again. "I said, is it true?"

She whimpered meekly before a moan slipped from between her lips and her fingers dug into the plush suede of the couch beneath her. "…Yes. Oh, yes. Grissom…"

He turned it back to low, and moved over to her side, bending in front of her. Her eyes were a little out-of-focus and she blinked rapidly, trying to get a grip on herself. Instead, Grissom kissed her—a gentle thing, but with clear intentions. She leaned in to it, deepened it, exploring his mouth and gently flicking over his tongue until she was breathless and dizzy, and then he pulled back.

"…Is this… okay, Sara? I don't want to… do anything you don't want or… or rush things."

She stared up at him through dark eyes, struggling to comprehend his words and his kiss and the meaning of all that had happened since she arrived in this office—and when it all clicked into place, she was gripping the curls at the back of his neck tightly, pulling her on top of herself, kissing and kissing and kissing him with reckless abandon.

Clothing was tossed and fell to the floor like confetti and streamers and rain. Grissom stopped, however, when Sara was down to her underwear… slipping his fingers instead through one side to move inside her, to be certain she was ready. She rocked against his hand impatiently, and tried to tug the underwear down herself, but he stopped her, pulling it forcefully to the side and lining himself up against her before capturing her gaze with his own.

She nodded her assent and he pressed in gently, sinking into her warmth with such relief after years and years of mutual wanting and never receiving. She let out a low moan while he paused, letting her adjust to his size, before moving within her. He was everything she had ever wanted him to be and more—an attentive, generous lover, he looked her in the eyes, he asked if she was okay, and if it felt good, and whether she was getting close.

And when she was—when he was—when they hovered on the brink together, he flicked her present on, all the way up to high, and let go when her string of expletives coincided with her clamping around him in an orgasm that could only be described as earth-shattering, cliche as it sounds. They rode it out together, and it seemed to go on and on, and finally, dripping with sweat and breathing heavily, Grissom turned it off again, laying his damp curls to her delicate breast in exhaustion.

When he had caught his breath, he lifted his head again to look at her, and gave her a cheesy, little boy's smile.

"…What?"

"…Happy Birthday. …Remind me to thank Greg for your present…"


End file.
